His Little Flower
by amcozy
Summary: She was little, innocent, and far sweeter than anything he'd ever known. From the first moment he saw her standing inside that Hobbit hole, he knew he'd protect her always. Dwalin/OC
1. Chapter 1

_Disclaimer: I don't own anything - Tolkien gets all the credit._

_A/N: I had this idea the other day and couldn't get it out of my head. Hopefully you'll all enjoy it! Please review to let me know your thoughts! :)_

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Chapter One

Posey was a simple hobbit. She'd never considered life to get any more complicated than trying to convince her dearest brother to get out of the house more – She was going to find him a wife if it was the last thing she did! Her day had started much the same as any other, with a quick trip to the market to sell Bilbo's prizewinning tomatoes (they brought in more than enough extra coin to make up for all of the pipeweed that Bilbo went through!), a stop at Millie's shop for some extra fabric for the new dress Posey was making for the party in Tuckborough next Saturday, and a quick walk about the garden to check on the flowers.

Presently, Posey was kneeling amongst the rose bushes at the front of the garden, just beside the gate that led up to her family home, Bag End. Bilbo, her brother, sat on their garden bench relaxing with his pipe. He'd offered to help her with the flowers, but Bilbo's talent had always been with vegetables – he tended to drown her roses and prune the life out of her petunias. They sat in comfortable silence, like always, going about their business in the pleasant heat of the late-summer day.

The loud crunching coming up the lane gave away their unexpected visitor. Posey knew from the start that no hobbit would ever make such a racket, so it was of no surprise to see one the 'big folk' nearing their gate. The old man had a long and rather unkempt beard, a tall and also unkempt pointy hat, and wore old (and unkempt) grey robes that skirted the ground. Presently, he leaned on a gnarled wooden staff. The old man said nothing, watching with what Posey would call amusement as both she and her brother got more and more uncomfortable in his silence. Glancing to her brother, Posey motioned for him to greet the man, for she certainly didn't know what to say!

"Good morning." Bilbo finally said awkwardly. Bilbo looked back and forth between the old man and Posey, clearly uncertain on what he could possibly say next – luckily, the old man saved him with his own retort – "What do you mean? Do you mean to wish me a good morning, or that it is a good morning whether I want it to be or not? Or perhaps you mean to tell me that you feel good on this particular morning? Or are you simply stating that this is a morning to feel good on?"

Posey laughed at that and the look on Bilbo's face following the old man's words. "He likely means all of them at once, good sir!" Posey stood while removing her gardening gloves, brushed her skirts off and extended her hand to him, "Pleased to make your acquaintance, sir. I'm Posey Baggins. This awkward fellow is my dear brother, Bilbo Baggins."

"Now, now, Posey, let's give the man some room," Bilbo said quickly, standing to snatch Posey's hand away before the old man took it. Posey thought this rather rude and was about to say something when Bilbo interrupted her, "Can we help you with something?"

"That remains to be seen." The man's graveled voice was low and Posey wasn't sure what to think about it. "I'm looking for someone to share in an adventure." So much for a normal day! Bilbo's jaw went slack and it appeared that he was doing a fine impression of a fish. Posey sputtered quietly, a response not forthcoming in her confusion.

Bilbo regained himself shortly, "An adventure? No, I don't suppose anyone west of Bree would have any interest in adventures." Silently, Posey agreed. "Nasty, disturbing, uncomfortable things."

"Make you late for dinner, they will!" Posey added, though her eyes belied a slight interest in what exactly this adventure might be about. She'd always loved to read books about heroes and heroines fighting their way across the countryside. Gandalf saw this, she could tell, as he winked at her while her brother wasn't looking. Bilbo had moved away to the mailbox and pretended to sort through the letters while humming loudly to himself.

"Well, good morning! Come, Posey, it's time for afternoon tea!" Yanking his sister along, Bilbo marched quickly up the steps to their home.

"To think I'd live to see the day when I'd be 'good morning'd' by the children of Belladonna Took! As if I were selling buttons at the door!" Posey gasped and turned around quickly – who was this man? Surely no one of their acquaintance? "I beg your pardon?"

"You've changed – especially you, Bilbo Baggins – and not entirely for the better!" Posey and Bilbo looked to each other, then back at the old man. "I'm sorry sir," Posey replied quietly, "Do we know you?"

"You know my name, dear Posey, but not that I belong to it! My name is Gandalf, and Gandalf means, me!"

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Several hours later, Posey stood in the kitchen, getting plates together for dinner. She still wasn't sure what to think of the strange encounter with Gandalf, the wandering wizard. His parting words had been slightly disturbing to her, and she'd voiced that to her brother after the strange old man had wandered off. "What, exactly, did he mean by saying that it'd be 'good' for us? Surely he doesn't think that either of us would be well suited for any sort of adventure?"

"That, dear sister, I couldn't say. Though it strikes me as extremely odd that he would even think to include a gentle hobbit such as yourself in any talk of adventures. I'm at least able to defend myself against such talk. Your sensibilities are entirely too innocent." He'd nodded at her firmly and walked into the library to read after that, thus ending the conversation.

Wiping a stray blonde hair out of her face, Posey brought the plates and silverware into the dining room. Fresh fish, steamed vegetables, and potatoes. Perhaps even a biscuit or two. This meal was sure to calm her rattled nerves – after Bilbo went off to bed Posey had every intention of having a large mug of ale as well, though she didn't want her brother to know about that. He was of the opinion that ladies should only have wine on special occasions, and ale never – Well, bother that!

Placing the vegetables and potatoes on the plates, Posey waited for Bilbo to plate the fish. He was rather quiet all afternoon and Posey didn't think she'd much conversation out of her brother until after the meal was in his belly. While placing her napkin on her lap, Posey heard the doorbell ring. Bilbo, who had been in the middle of salting his fish, glanced toward the doorway in trepidation. "Who would be calling at this hour?"

"Don't worry, brother, I'll get it." Posey stood and walked quickly to the door - Perhaps their neighbor, little Brianne Proudfoot, needed help with her boys again. She'd had twins a fortnight ago and the children were quite the handful. As she opened the door, Posey's smile froze on her face upon seeing the mighty figure waiting on the front step.

He was taller than any hobbit she'd ever seen and his shoulders were so broad she was sure that he wouldn't fit through the door. He wore a thick traveling cloak and Posey could see fur and leather peeking out from underneath it. There was no hair on the top of his head, but Posey was sure she could see tattoos – Tattoos?! – in place of the hair that must have been there once. His beard – Beard?! – was thick, growing almost as long as the hair that grew on the sides and back of his head. Posey was sure she'd gasped upon seeing him, but as a gentle hobbit, she smiled as she recovered from the shock of seeing him there.

"Dwalin," His voice made Posey shiver – surely no one she'd ever met had such a voice? – "At your service." He was bowing now, and even leaning over such as he was, he was still taller than her. Posey realized then that she was wearing the same dirty dress she'd been gardening in, covered now by a dirty, grease covered apron that she'd cooked in. She must look a fright!

"Forgive me, sir!" she squeaked, quickly pulling at the ties of her apron and yanking it off. She folded it messily and threw it to the side behind the door where the stranger – Dwalin – could no longer see it. She dropped into a quick curtsey, "Posey Baggins, at your service."

He looked her up and down then… Surely that wasn't proper, was it? His gaze lingered on her hair, her waist – definitely not proper! – and her lower legs and feet. This man was certainly not a hobbit. His mouth, which Posey observed as having a fine set of lips, quirked into a smirk. She was sure that she was blushing now. Confound it all!

"Who's at the door, Posey?" Bilbo walked up beside her and Posey saw their guest's smirk turn into a sneer.

"This is Dwalin." Unsure of what else to do, Posey smiled at Dwalin again, hoping that her blush wasn't as noticeable as she was sure it was. She could see her brother tying belt of his robe together as he greeted Dwalin with a nod. The large dwarf – for surely this man had to be a dwarf – marched right into their home, pulling off his cloak to expose two large – very large – axes strapped to his back.

"Which way, lassie?" Following their guest with apprehension, Posey shook her head, not certain what it was that he was asking, "Supper?" He said in the same gruff manner as before, "He said there'd be food, and plenty of it."

"He said?" Bilbo asked from behind her, "Who said?"

"Does it matter at this point?" Posey asked. Walking up to Dwalin, Posey motioned him toward the dining room, "Do you like fish, Sir Dwalin? We've made potatoes and vegetables as well. And biscuits!" She was rather proud of the little meal she'd made and she supposed Dwalin could tell because the smirk had returned to his face. She noticed a rather impressive scar running along the side of his head then, running from the corner of his right eye and extending up his forehead.

His steps sounded loudly on the wooden floor as he entered the dining room and sat at Bilbo's seat. He ate quickly, not bothering to ask if the meal was intended for him or not. The entire time he messily shoved the food into his face, he watched Posey as she sat across from him. She ate her meal slowly, glancing from the dwarf to her brother and back again.

"Very good, this." Dwalin said after finishing Bilbo's dinner, "Anymore?" Posey quickly jumped to her feet and brought over the plate of biscuits she'd made earlier. She threw one over to Bilbo to make sure that he at least got something to eat.

This seemed to wake Bilbo out of his shock – He stood from the seat he'd taken in the corner of the dining room and walked over to the table, "Um, you see, we weren't expecting any company." The dwarf didn't respond or acknowledge him – his eyes were still locked on Posey, whose blush continued to deepen by the minute.

The doorbell rang again. Both hobbits turned toward the hall, while Dwalin looked to Bilbo for the first time – "That'll be the door."

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_A/N: Image for this story is ©StudioMia and was found at__: __ art/Dwalin-son-of-Fundin-352154884_


	2. Chapter 2

_Disclaimer: I don't own anything - Tolkien gets all the credit._

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Chapter Two

This evening had escalated rather quickly – too quickly! – from a quiet dinner with her brother to a crammed house filled to the brim with dwarves. Dwarves! Posey was trying desperately to hang on to reason as the group of unruly travelers moved her furniture, devastated her pantry, and left trails of mud throughout the house.

They were a merry bunch, at least. After Dwalin, eleven other dwarves had joined them, in addition to one mysterious wizard. Gandalf had been relatively quiet since his arrival, which had left Bilbo increasingly out of sorts. Posey was attempting to take it all in stride, offering help when needed and doing her best to keep her brother calm. Keeping busy was also keeping her away from her thoughts, which had continued to drift toward the large and brutish dwarf who'd been trailing her with his eyes since she'd opened the front door.

It was rather disconcerting, really. Never one to attract much attention, Posey wasn't sure why Dwalin insisted on gawking at her. The only thing she was certain of was that he did it openly. A few of his comrades had joked with him about it – in front of her! – and he'd just grunted at them, seeming to find it funny. Funny?!

About twenty minutes after their initial arrival, Posey was relieved to see all of the dwarves settled in the dining room, loudly eating, drinking, and joking amongst themselves. Bilbo was in a state of panic as he looked in the pantry to see the shelves nearly bare and Posey was certain that he was going into shock.

"Aye, lassie! We've saved ye a seat!" Glancing over to the owner of the voice – Bobor? Nofor? No! Bofur! – Posey saw a cramped space at the corner of the table, suspiciously located just next to the wide-shouldered brute – who, Posey noted, had a lovely laugh. The brute in question, Dwalin, didn't seem to notice that Bofur was motioning her to sit there, but if the space was open, Posey was certain it wouldn't be a problem. Gandalf would be seated to her right, so at least she could question him about the purpose of this unexpected meeting in her dining room!

It took a bit of squeezing around dwarves and chairs to get to her destination. Dwalin was laughing again, having just poured ale down the odd device that one of the other dwarves – Oh dear! What was that one's name again? – apparently used to aide his hearing. The entire company was cheering about one thing or another and the merriment was infectious.

By the time Posey sat in her chair, she had a wide smile on her face and wasn't paying complete attention to her surroundings. It appeared that, upon having to lift a leg to fit her body in front of her chair to sit, Posey had placed her hand on Dwalin's shoulder for balance. The large dwarf had stilled completely at her touch, his laugh drying up in his throat as he glanced her way. Posey smiled at him as she quickly moved her hand off of him, not wanting to forget her manners. He grunted again, but didn't look away. The louder one – Mofur? Goodness, no – Bofur! – found this all very entertaining.

"My apologies, Sir Dwalin, I didn't mean to offend," was all Posey could think to say, given that the dwarf was still just staring at her. Perhaps he was… simple?

The commotion around them was surely still going on – Posey could see food flying out of the corner of her eye and she was sure that sound was hitting her ears – but to her it seemed that once her eyes locked with Dwalin's, everything else lost focus. What an odd feeling!

Up this close, Posey could better see the tattoos and scars that marred the dwarf's face. His nose looked as though it'd been broken several times, with a rather misshapen bridge and enlarged appearance. The hair of his beard was thick, with a few grey streaks littered throughout. Posey herself was a grown Hobbit lass, but still young by most standards – quite a bit younger than her brother – and she suddenly wanted to know how old this dwarf was.

Feeling increasingly uncomfortable, Posey turned away from Dwalin and looked to Gandalf, "Well, wizard, are you going to tell me what this is all about? It's highly irregular to have an evening such as this in the Shire!"

"In due time, my dear. I'm afraid some of the talking isn't meant for your innocent ears. Your brother, however, will have an important role to play in this evening's discussions." Posey frowned deeply, looking toward the hallway where she was sure her brother was still lurking. What could twelve dwarves and a wizard possibly need from her brother?

"I'm not certain I like the sound of that, Gandalf." The frown on her face drew out a chuckle from the wizard, which only made Posey more aggravated. Glancing back up to the chaos around the rest of the table, Posey saw Bofur – got it on the first try! – throw a hardboiled egg clear across the room into the waiting mouth of… well, she had no idea what the big one's name was, but he caught the egg and the entire table broke out in cheers. Laughing at the absurdity of it all, Posey shook her head and crossed her fingers that Aunt Myrtle's 120 year-old floral carpet, currently residing beneath the dining room table, would survive the night.

Out of the corner of her eye, Posey was happy to see that Dwalin had broken out of whatever stupor he'd been in and was drinking once again with the rest of them. He had, however, placed a massive hand – covered in some sort of metal? – on the back on Posey's chair. The effect was close to an embrace, given how cramped together they had been forced to sit. Posey noticed several of the dwarf's companions snickering at the sight, which made her ever-present blush turn an even deeper shade of pink.

Posey's mortification didn't last long, as the younger blonde dwarf – Flippy? No, that can't be right – stood atop the table passing around mugs of ale. His feet landed in bowls and on plates with every step, flinging more food across the room. "Who wants some ale? Ah! My lady, surely you're thirsty!" The mug was almost thrown into Posey's grasp, causing her to lean back in an effort to not spill the contents all over her increasingly disheveled dress. This pushed her even closer to Dwalin, and much to her embarrassment, the dwarf moved his hand from her chair to her shoulder, steadying her. When it was clear she wouldn't be spilling her ale, he didn't move his hand… or his arm, which now rested firmly at Posey's back.

"Thank you, I'm fine now, sir Dwalin." Posey's words did nothing, apparently, as Dwalin continued to embrace her while the group of dwarves raised their mugs in unison, downing massive gulps in some sort of drinking contest. Dwalin slammed his mug back onto the table and Posey could see rivulets of ale had made there was onto his beard. Surely they all needed to bathe after this? Ever prepared, Posey used her free hand to grab her handkerchief from where in rested in the small pocket of her skirts and, without much thought, she wiped the ale from Dwalin's beard – The speed at which he turned his face to her was a bit shocking, and Posey was thankful for the burping contest taking place at the other end of the table – Was that truly necessary? Disgusting! – for she was certain that Dwalin was upset at her for taking such a liberty. "Oh! I'm sorry! I didn't mean to offend!" Her whisper came out as more of a squeak. Goodness gracious, what was happening to her this evening?

His mouth twisted into a smirk as he leaned closer to Posey's face, his arm wrapping more firmly about her shoulders, "By all means, little one, I like it when you touch my beard." Posey was certain that the intent of this comment was not nearly as innocent as it sounded. She was positive that her face was currently a violent shade of red, so instead of responding, Posey simply snapped her mouth shut and turned back to the table. The hope was to ignore what had just happened, but the sudden laughter from the majority of the table made Posey aware of the fact that the burping contest had ended prior to Dwalin's inappropriate comment.

"Posey, would you be a dear and bring an old man some more wine?" Gandalf was clearly trying to save her from embarrassment and Posey jumped on the opportunity before the wizard could even finish his request.

"Of course, Gandalf, I'll be right back." In standing, rather abruptly, Posey had dislodged Dwalin's arm from around her shoulders. But, vacating the room with a shred of dignity left was not to be had. A light smack upon her rear – Pardon me?! – followed by metal-clad hands at her waist – Again, pardon me?! – and suddenly Posey was airborne, having been lifted by Dwalin over her chair into the free space just behind Gandalf. The dwarf in question had return to his seat before Posey could react, so she wasn't sure if he saw how quickly she'd ran from the room.

Things were getting out of control – That dwarf, that massive bulk of muscle and hair and metal and fur and leather, had thrown her around like a sack of potatoes! Clearly, Posey had no concept of dwarven social customs, because this type of behavior was not how a gentle hobbit would treat a lady! At the same time, however, Posey was bit a flattered… maybe too flattered. She was young, yes, but she'd had a romance or two in her day. Most hobbits of her acquaintance were soft, small, simple creatures that could be figured out after only a few dinners and a stroll through the fields. This dwarf, on the other hand, was hard and gruff and so completely different from anyone she'd ever met – even from the companions he currently sat with.

"Are you alright?" Bilbo had followed Posey into the kitchen, it seemed, and was looking at her with concern. "I couldn't see what happened but it can't have been good if you ran out of there!"

"It was nothing, Bilbo, I'm fine." Her brother had been running his hand through his hair from the looks of it. He looked as bedraggled as Posey felt. "Did you get anything to eat? I can go gather a plate for you if you like."

"Oh, no, I've quite lost my appetite." Bilbo laughed at Posey's gasp – he never, ever, lost his appetite. The brother and sister hugged briefly before Posey poured red wine into the largest glass they had left. Gandalf would surely drink it down in a few sips, but it was better than nothing! Bilbo was still pacing, heading out into the hallway and back into the kitchen every few moments, a frown etched firmly on to his face. Posey gathered up her courage and walked slowly back toward the side entry of the dining room, just behind Gandalf's chair. It appeared that several of the dwarves had finished their meals during her absence, as there was much more space now around the table for Posey to maneuver forward.

Just as Posey was about to pass through the entry way, however, a dark shadow passed over her. Looking up, the dwarf plaguing Posey's thoughts appeared. Dwalin took the glass out of her hand and, with his massive arm reaching much further than her own would have, he put the wine on the table next to the wizard. "Um, thank you," she squeaked, grimacing at the brittle sound of her voice.

"It's no problem, little one." He'd crossed his arms over his chest, the effect making him look even more muscled than before. Dwalin tilted his head to the side, looking at Posey from the top of her head to the tips of her toes. "You'll come outside with me."

"Pardon?" Posey couldn't say much else as the dwarf's massive hands reached out to her and twisted her to face the other direction as he led her toward the round front door. "Sir Dwalin, I have to clear the table soon! Is this something my brother could assist with?" They were almost to the door now and Posey was in a near panic – What in the world would this dwarf need to do with her outside? At night? Unchaperoned? Oh, dear!


	3. Chapter 3

_Disclaimer: I don't own anything - Tolkien gets all the credit._

_A/N: I hope you enjoy the next chapter! Thank you for amazing feedback and please keeping reviewing! I'd also love to have you check out my other Hobbit fic, a Thorin/OC called 'The Lady Hilde' – totally different idea, but still a lot of fun :)_

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Chapter Three

How in the world did she get into this mess? The night was warm, quiet, and everything that a late summer night in the Shire should be… Posey wasn't able to take note of this beauty, however, as she was practically shoved outside by massive hands belonging to an immense dwarf. Stumbling on the stone steps of the garden, Posey turned around to the look at the dwarf in question and saw him standing tall, arms once again crossed over his expansive chest. "I must say, sir Dwalin, this is highly irregular! What was so important that we could not discuss it inside?"

He made her so nervous. It wasn't that she felt frightened of him – he had a way about him that put her at ease almost immediately – but he was a silent and the way he looked at her – Goodness! His eyes were trained on her hair, which prompted Posey to smoothing her curly locks a bit, just in case she'd become disheveled during the course of the night.

Dwalin's smirk lifted into an almost smile as her watched Posey attempt to calm the curls that obviously couldn't be tamed. The light shining into from the windows of Bag End highlighted the golden tones in her hair, making it a halo that glowed around her face. Sighing rather loudly, Dwalin spoke, low and rough - "Dwarves don't often do," his hand lifted and motioned between the two of them, "_this_. Of the twelve of us here, only two chose the path. It's why there aren't many of us to begin with."

_This_?

"Pardon? What do you mean by '_this_'?" Posey mimicked Dwalin's motion between them. What in the world was he talking about? Oh dear – he was walking closer!

"I've seen the way ye've been looking at me, lassie." Posey stepped back as much as the garden steps would allow – _she_ had been looking at _him_? Surely he realized that it was _him_ who'd been looking at _her_? "I've been watching ye too. Though it doesn't make much sense – ye're far too small and the lack of beard is troublesome."

Lack of a beard?! Surely that was a good thing? "I'm afraid I still don't know what you're talking about."

"Yes ye do, lass. Ye've just decided not to acknowledge it. Mahal knows, ye're a timid little thing." The look of his face was softer now and he reached out to touch her hair. The delicate curls wrapped quickly around his large fingers. "I'm far too old to play games, Posey Baggins. If _this_ is going to happen, we'll need to decide it now. We're headed out in the morning, little one, so there isn't much time."

The feel of his fingers in her hair was driving Posey to distraction. "What do we need to decide?"

"Whether or not I'm coming back for ye once the quest is done." Dwalin had separated out a thick curl on the side of Posey's head and she could feel his fingers separating the curl into smaller sections – Braiding it? What an odd thing to do!

"You're going on a quest? A quest to where?" Posey could smell the leather and… the pure _masculinity_ of the dwarf as he continued to play with her hair. If she leaned forward just a bit, her face would touch the fur that hung down from his shoulders. What in the world was going on?!

"To the east, to our homeland. The journey will be long and I wouldn't return for quite a while. I need to know that ye want me to come back for you. If ye do, I'll claim you now and you'll be mine." Posey had been fleetingly mesmerized by the combination of his rumbling voice and his fingers nearing the end of the new braid that it took a moment for her to digest exactly what the dwarf had said.

Her blush would surely be permanent now – Goodness gracious! Claim?! How does a dwarf claim someone?! "Sir Dwalin-"

"Just Dwalin, lass."

Posey ignored the interruption. "Why would you travel all the way back to the Shire for me? You've only known me for a few hours! I'm not sure I like the idea of being 'claimed' either! I'm not a sheep!"

Dwalin's laugh was loud and Posey was once again struck by how lovely the sound was. "Lass, ye don't' understand dwarven custom, that's for certain, so I'll explain it to ye. We dwarves don't often choose to share ourselves with another. We like freedom and we like our crafts, so taking on a partner isn't always seen as a good thing. I'm 169 years-old and I've never been tempted to claiming a partner before."

169 years-old?! Oh dear. That's… 134 years older than… Oh dear.

"When a dwarf does claim one, it's forever. We're not like fickle men who go from woman to woman. If ye choose this, lass, it'll be for good. I'll put a braid in your hair and you'll wear it as a sign that ye're mine."

Hadn't he already put a braid in her hair?

"Is this some sort of proposal?" Posey squeaked, her eyes locked with Dwalin's as he stepped up even closer to her. The fur lining his upper body tickled her face.

"If that's what ye want to call it, lass."

Oh. Dear.

"After knowing me for less than three hours?" Was he leaning down? Surely not!

His mouth was much softer than the rough hairs of his beard. The kiss wasn't passion-filled like Posey would have expected from this dwarf – it was sweet. It felt like he was waiting for her to pull away… she didn't. Surely her mother was turning in her grave.

When Dwalin pulled back, he immediately reached to his waist where he had a small pouch attached to his wide leather belt. Posey could hear metal clinking against metal as he dug his large fingers into the pouch. He'd grabbed a small circular… thing? It had small engravings on it, but before Posey could examine it, Dwalin put the metal object at the base of the braid in her hair. He tugged on it, testing to see if was secure, and then grunted happily. "There, lass. I'll come back for ye once we've settled matters in Erebor." He then, without another glance or word to her, walked back inside.

Surely that didn't just happen? "Oh dear." Posey started pacing the front step without realizing it. She should follow him back inside and let him know that she hadn't promised anything… right? She should tell him that this was happening entirely too fast and if he was planning to leave in the morning, she would not expect him to return… right? "Oh dear."

Posey didn't have much more time to examine the alarming events of the past few minutes, as her brother's voice could be heard from inside - "Excuse me! That's my mother's West Farthing pottery! It's over a hundred years-old!" Posey walked back inside to see plates and bowls flying, being tossed between the dwarves in a distressing dance of limbs, glass, and hair. "Can you not do that?! You'll blunt them!"

"Oh, did ye hear that, lads? He says we'll blunt the knives!" Posey could hear laughter first, then song. The dwarves were having plenty of fun at her brother's expense, much to her chagrin. Posey heard music coming out of the dining room and she slowly made her way towards the sounds, dodging the flying pottery, when the young blonde dwarf – Foli? No, Fili! – spun her around and passed her along to the one with the funny hair – Nori! She remembered that one! – who dipped her in a quick motion, at once dancing with her and also keeping a large bowl from colliding with her head. She spun off and hit the wall of the dining room lightly – Dwalin winked at her from his position at the end of the table where he stood masterfully playing a viol next to Bofur, who was playing a clarinet.

Posey could see the goal of this bizarre musical number – the plates and bowls and cutlery were all heading toward the kitchen for washing. It was kind of them to clean up their horrific mess, but Posey was certain that her brother would have a heart attack if this went on much longer.

"That's what Bilbo Baggins hates!" The cheering and laughter at the end of the song was a relief. Posey giggled a bit at the look on her brother's face. She was about to see if Bilbo was alright when a loud knock on the door interrupted her. The entire group silenced immediately, all heads turning to the doorway and whoever it was that waited outside.

"He is here." Gandalf's voice was soft, but all in the room heard him.

Thorin Oakenshield's arrival at Bag End had quickly settled the group of dwarves. The dwarven king was not impressed with Bilbo (though it was still a mystery as to why he cared about her brother's weapon prowess at all) and didn't' even glance in Posey's direction when she brought him a bowl of stew and mug of ale. Gandalf had motioned for Posey to leave the room when discussions began and, being the dutiful and gentle hobbit she was, Posey nodded and walked toward her room at the rear of the house.

The low sound of dwarven voices could be heard from where Posey now sat at her vanity, looking at her reflection in the small mirror that hung on the wall. The braid that now adorned the right side of her head was artfully made – it wasn't just a small braid that a little girl would wear when playing outside. It was the kind of braid that was painstakingly put in a bride's hair while she prepared for her wedding. Instead of three sections, this braid seemingly had dozens of inter-woven parts connecting for a perfectly beautiful, thick, and surprising long plait. The metal ornament at the end of the braid was a simple clasp that encapsulated the end of her hair – it had a strange series of geometric patterns circling it – the patterns mirrored the ones she'd seen on Dwalin's metal… well, see wasn't sure those things were on his hands, but the markings were the same.

A loud series of shouts shocked Posey out of her reverie. What in the world was going on out there? The dwarven king's voice was raised, talking about 'signs' and 'assessing' and something about the 'wealth of our people.' Posey was glad she didn't have to be out there – this adventure seemed entirely too complicated and confusing for her, even if she'd always wanted to travel outside of the Shire.

Thinking back to Dwalin's conversation with her just a short time ago, Posey felt her face get warm. How in the world had this day gone from a simple morning, just like any other, to a dwarf filled evening that included a kiss and a proposal from a warrior? Posey looked to the mirror again and saw the smile on her face… she was taking all of this rather well. Any other hobbit would have crawled under their bed to wait for the dwarves to leave… Instead, Posey sat at her vanity, apparently 'claimed' by a dwarf as his future wife, and she had a smile on her face.

One thing didn't add up, though… What exactly was Bilbo's part in this? Why was he out there, taking part in the conversation? When Gandalf had come this morning, he'd said that he was looking for someone to take part in an adventure – Surely Bilbo would decline? Right?

"Mistress Posey!" The adorable, sweet dwarf – Nori's brother… Orni? – called from the hallway, "Master Baggins has passed out! Gandalf needs your help!"

"Oh dear."

* * *

_A/N: There it is! If it seems fast, that's the idea! No slowmances or awkward moments of trying to analyze feelings here! … well, not yet, at least ;) Please review!_


	4. Chapter 4

_Disclaimer: I don't own anything - Tolkien gets all the credit._

_A/N: Sorry for the delay on this chapter! Work has been ridiculous over the past two weeks and it left little room for writing – Hopefully this chapter makes up for it! :) There's a lot of dialogue in this one – I hope you enjoy it!_

* * *

Chapter Four

"I'll be alright, just let me sit quietly for a moment." Bilbo's wavering voice made Posey frown as she handed her older brother a mug of peppermint tea. Poor Bilbo! He was still pale and the look in his eyes left her feeling quite unsettled. What had caused her dear, gentle brother to faint in the middle of their hallway?

"You've been sitting quietly for far too long!" Gandalf didn't seem to share in Posey's sympathy. "Tell me, Bilbo, when did doilies and your mother's dishes become so important to you?" Posey could see by Bilbo's face that he honestly didn't know what was wrong about worrying for such things. "I remember a young hobbit that was always in search of elves in the woods! You'd stay out late and return after dark trailing in mud and twigs and fireflies. You were a young hobbit who would have loved to know what lay beyond the borders of the Shire!"

Ah, yes – _beyond the borders of the Shire_. Clearly Bilbo's sudden impairment was due to some unknown detail of the quest of the Dwarves. Feeling slightly out of place in the conversation, Posey walked out of the drawing room to give Gandalf a little space to speak with her brother. It was as she entered the kitchen to see Dwalin smoking a pipe that she recalled everything else that has gone on this very evening. _Oh dear_.

The dwarf in question looked up at her from his seat by the window. A few of the other dwarves – She'd quite given up trying to name them – sat near him, also smoking. Dwalin winked and, from his smirk, Posey knew her blush had returned. Thinking it best to avoid another conversation with her… intended? Posey decided to prepare beds of their guests – though there weren't enough, if her calculations were correct – to accommodate them all. Perhaps some of them would be willing to share? Or sleep on the floor?

Her musings were interrupted as she stepped out into the hall and found Balin – Ah! Got it on the first try! – and the dwarf king speaking quietly. Upon noticing her, they both had their eyes trained on the braid the Dwalin had made with her hair - as well as the metal bead that rested as its end. Balin seemed confused, while the king looked suspiciously entertained. "Pardon me, sirs! I hadn't seen you there." Thorin – that was his name, right? – nodded at her and gave the slightest of smiles. He was rather handsome, though in an unsettling sort of way.

Posey rushed past, not wishing to be forced into an awkward exchange with yet another dwarf, and began to gather as many blankets and pillows as she could find. As she was working on making up the beds in the largest of Bag End's guest rooms, she saw her brother walk into his chambers and shut the door. _That can't be good_.

Several moments later, as she readied the last of the seven beds available for the dwarves to rest in, Posey heard singing coming from the drawing room at the front of the house. The song was sad. The dwarves had all raised their voices to sing about the loss of their homeland and Posey could feel goose bumps on her arms as the song reached its climax. For as jolly and boisterous as the company of dwarves seemed, they were clearly hiding a great deal of sorrow.

Feeling a bit like an intruder in her own home, Posey went to the kitchen to wait for the singing to end. Gandalf was seated by the fire, staring into the flames - He motioned for her to sit with him. "My dear, Posey, I must say you've grown even lovelier than when I last visited! The young men of the Shire will be devastated to learn that you've wed."

Posey giggled softly and touched a small hand to Dwalin's braid. "It's not as though I've wed yet, Gandalf. I'm sure that a braid in my hair won't mean a great deal to anyone living here once the Dwaves have left for their quest." Gandalf's eyebrows had risen quite high as Posey spoke. "What is it, Gandalf?"

"Surely he told you?" Gandalf's eyebrows seemed to be dancing on his face – where they had just been nearly to his hair, they now were brought low in an almost grimace.

"Told me what?" Posey was thoroughly confused.

"Dwalin surely told you about dwarven marriage?" Posey thought back to the brief conversation she'd had with the warrior-dwarf only a short while before. He'd mentioned claiming her, returning to her… nothing about marriage specifically.

"No, he didn't. Is there something I should know, Gandalf?"

"A braid in one's hair is a very important thing to a dwarf." Posey nodded – Dwalin had told her that it would be a sign of his claim to her. Gandalf continued, "Dwarves take no action without absolute certainty, and once they've made up their mind, it's nearly impossible to change it." Posey nodded again – Dwalin did seem quite stubborn. "So when a dwarf puts a braid such as yours into another's hair, it's a sign that they are claimed – that they are one."

Dread. It was feeling Posey wasn't very used to. Hobbits are simple creatures with simple pleasures. Conflict and surprise aren't often a part of their lives. So, as Gandalf continued to speak, the feeling of coming dread was extremely disconcerting. "What exactly are you trying to tell me, Gandalf?"

"Well, my dear, I'm afraid that you're wrong in saying that you aren't already wed."

Oh. Dear.

"Pardon me?"

"You're already wed, my dear. At least by dwarven standards. Any dwarf that sees you will know that Dwalin is your husband."

"Oh dear." Posey's voice was of such a high pitch that she didn't' recognize the sound. Surely Gandalf was wrong! How could someone be married without even knowing it?

"Would you like some tea, my dear?" Posey knew Gandalf had spoken but she couldn't find it in herself to respond. The world around her seemed to pause. Married? … Married?! "I think I need to sit down."

"You are already sitting down." Gandalf had reached toward her a placed a gentle hand to her shoulder, "Perhaps it would be best to speak with Dwalin about this?"

"Speak to me about what?" The deep rumble of Dwalin's voice came from behind her. Clearly the singing had come to an end. Posey wanted to stand, but she found herself rather stuck. It was as if her body was no longer under her control.

"I'll leave you to it, then." Gandalf moved much quicker than Posey had thought he could and vacated the room. The sound of Gandalf directing the other dwarves toward the guest rooms could be heard from the hallway, but Posey's concentration was stuck on the metal bead dangling from the braid in her hair.

"Gandalf tells me that this means I'm wed to you." Her voice didn't wavier and she sounded calm – Perfect!

"Aye, I already told ye that."

"No, you didn't." Oh dear – the calmness was gone already. Posey was standing now, though she didn't recall leaving the chair. Dwalin's arms were crossed – this seemed to be his natural stance – and he had one eyebrow raised. His amusement was infuriating.

"I told ye that the braid would claim ye as mine. What did ye think that meant?"

"I thought… well, I'm not exactly sure what I thought." Dwalin laughed – This wasn't funny! "What I do know is that you can't just go around marrying girls without telling them! It's not polite."

"I don't 'go around marrying girls.' I claimed _you_ and _you_ consented. You're a grown lass and ye could have refused me." Posey supposed that made sense… sort of.

"But I didn't realize that this braid meant marriage! I deserve a wedding! With a fancy dress and music!" Goodness, he was laughing again.

"All this fuss over a ceremony? If ye'd like, we could have Thorin bless the union, but normally that sort of formality is reserved for royalty."

"That's not the point! These sort of things should be planned! You should have asked my brother's permission!" Posey gasped, "Oh dear! Bilbo doesn't even know!" Posey was about to rush to find her brother when Dwalin grabbed her by the shoulders, lifted her up, and planted a firm, warm, wet kiss on her mouth.

Oh. Dear.

She couldn't speak again.

"Is that the trick to gettin' ye quiet, lass?" His smirk – once again infuriating – was highlighting his surprisingly white teeth. Up this close, wrapped in his massive embrace, Posey suddenly didn't mind that he'd married her without telling her first. He was just so… _big_. His tattooed head, misshapen nose, overly broad shoulders, metal-clad hands – all of it. _BIG_.

"You don't even know my full name."

"Ye don't know mine either, lass."

Posey frowned. "Well then, what is it?"

"Dwalin, son of Fundin."

"That's it? No middle name?"

"No, lass. No middle name."

"No surname either?"

"Balin and I are of the line of Durin, cousins of Thorin."

"So you're all related?" Posey would find this hard to believe. They all looked so different!

"Aye, most of us. Bofur, Bombor and Bifur aren't of Durin's line, but the rest are in one way or another."

"Do you want to know my full name?" Dwalin smirked and gave her a quick nod. "It's Posey Belladonna Baggins, named after my mother, Belladonna Took. My father was Bungo Baggins. We Bagginses are very well thought of in the Shire."

"Aye? That's good to know."

Posey could tell he was humoring her – he probably didn't really care if the Bagginses were important folk. "I don't understand why you would have married me without even knowing who I am. Doesn't that bother you?"

"I told ye already – ye're the first that's ever tempted me. I didn't see the point in waiting to think it over. 169 years is a long time to wait and I wouldn't likely ever return to this place to work it out later."

"I can't believe you're 169 years-old! I'm only thirty-five!"

Dwalin's eyes went wide, "Ye're a grown lassie, right? I thought ye'd be 80 or 90."

"Of course I'm grown! I've been an adult for several years now, thank you very much! I'd be an old spinster if I was 80 years-old and still unmarried!" The warrior shook his head and set Posey back down on her feet.

"Aye, we'll have a lot to figure out once I'm back. For now, though, it's time for bed. We're making an early start in the morning."

_Bed_?! "Umm," Posey's blush was surely the deepest crimson of the evening at this point. "I'm not certain I'm quite ready for 'bed' yet."

Dwalin's bark of laughter was loud and came out with such force that he had to tip his head back. His shoulders were shaking even after he seemed to collect himself, "Aye, lassie. We're wed, but I know it's been quick for ye. I meant to say that it's time for sleep – I'll join my brother in one of the guest rooms."

"Oh. Well, that's good."

Posey couldn't quite recall walking to her room or even what was said in parting between she and her… husband?! The shock of the evening, mixed with the unbelievability of it all had finally resulted in a breakdown of her mental capacities. Surely the hobbit mind wasn't constructed to handle this much in such a short time?

Bilbo hadn't emerged from his room since he escaped earlier in the evening, and when Posey woke before dawn the next morning, she was sure that he had still had yet to come out. Several of the dwarves were in the kitchen when Posey rushed in to make breakfast – Though there wasn't much left but a bit of bread and jam, the lively group was appreciative none the less.

Bombor, the largest of the company, had graciously helped her to locate the last bit of cheese and he was almost in tears when he realized that she'd packed it especially for him to take as an extra snack. As the dwarves prepared to leave, Posey noticed that Dwalin had yet to eat – in fact, she hadn't seen him at all.

"Bombor, have you seen Dwalin?"

The rounded dwarf gave her a wink and said something about Dwalin preparing her for his absence. Grabbing the bread and jam she'd readied for Dwalin, Posey walked back down the hall toward the guest rooms. Not seeing him in any of those rooms, Posey continued down the hall toward her bedroom, feeling oddly certain that she'd find him there.

Upon opening the door, Posey found herself face to face with axes, knives, clubs and short swords. "Goodness gracious! What is all that doing on my quilt?!"

"Ye have no way to protect yourself," Dwalin said without looking up. He was strapping his large axes to his back and muttering under his breath as he fastened the ties together. "Pick a few to keep here with ye."

Glancing back to her bed, Posey was certain that there was nothing she'd wish to keep. How would she even use an axe? The most aggressive thing she'd ever held was a garden hoe! "I think I'll do without. Please, eat some breakfast before you go." Dwalin snatched the bread from her hands before she'd even finished, shoveling it into his mouth in two massive bites.

"I think the throwing awes would be best for ye. I hardly ever use them and they're small enough that you wouldna' have trouble with them."

"Throwing axes?!"

"Aye, those there." He pointed at the smallest of the weapons on the bed, resting heavily on her lace pillow. They had intricate cravings and looked very impressive, despite their small size.

"If you insist, I'll keep them." The large dwarf nodded with a grunt and continued to strap various weapons to his back and waist, even placing small daggers to his thighs. This man was a warrior, no doubt about it, and suddenly it occurred to Posey that this quest would certainly be a dangerous one.

"Wait, Dwalin, what happens if you don't come back?"

He finally locked eyes with her and sighed. Walking the short distance to stand directly in front of her, Dwalin tugged lightly on the braid she wore. "I plan on coming back. But, if the worst should happen, another from the company will come back to tell ye of my fate. Ye're one of our people now, lassie, so they'll take care of ye."

The kiss that followed was so sudden and so passionate that Posey was certain she'd never forget it. In fact, she was fairly positive that the noises she'd made during the embrace would mortify her for years to come – Goodness! Dwalin's hands had wandered places… her hands had wandered places… In fact, if it hadn't been for Balin walking down the hall calling out for his brother, Posey knew that she'd likely not have been able to control herself.

_Oh dear!_

"Time to go, lass." Dwalin winked, grabbed the last of his knives from the bed, and walked away. No words of lasting devotion, no kiss goodbye… nothing. Before Posey had a chance to collect herself, they were already gone. From the steps outside of the front door of Bag End, the same exact spot that she'd become Dwalin's wife the night before, Posey watched as the dwarves trailed quickly away.

Posey couldn't help but cry when she realized that she'd likely never see that ridiculous brute again. The tears only got worse, though, when her dearest brother ran off less than two hours later to follow them to doom and glory.


	5. Chapter 5

_Disclaimer: I don't own anything - Tolkien gets all the credit._

_A/N: Thank you all SO much for the reviews – they've been so great this time around that I really wanted to get another chapter out quickly :) One thing I did want to address was the fact that this isn't a Hobbit re-telling - I never intended to have Posey join the company. As fun as that might have been, I think that adventure was best left to Bilbo! Posey's own story will have adventures though, so not to worry! :)_

* * *

Chapter Five

It had been a week – a long week. Posey hadn't realized just how much she depended on Bilbo until he was no longer there. It had been a sensation in the Shire, of course, to learn that Bilbo Baggins had run off with a group of Dwarves to go on an 'adventure.' Posey had to contend with many callers seeking the latest gossip – It was to the point that Posey would rather not answer the door or go outside. To imagine what her garden must look like after a week such little attention!

Bag End was dreadfully quiet as well. Bilbo was never the most social of hobbits, but there's something to be said for hearing someone shuffling papers across the hall or asking where the spare quill had gotten too… Posey _was_ a social creature and living alone didn't agree with her one bit. Not at all. The quiet also gave way to thoughts about a certain deep-voiced dwarf whom Posey found herself dreaming about rather frequently. Those thoughts confused her and she'd rather not dwell on them. Goodness!

Posey had also taken to wearing a lovely bow in her hair after the last visit from Lobelia Sackville-Baggins. Her detestable cousin had remarked on the braid that Posey now wore and the metal bead at its base. "What an odd thing to wear! You'd think that you would have rather run off with those dwarves like your brother! Lenora mentioned that silly braid yesterday when she stopped by for afternoon tea – do you not bathe anymore? You hair must be filthy!" Lobelia was an awful person, Posey decided. "Mark my words, Posey Belladonna, that brother of yours has always been nothing but trouble and you'd do best to remember that! Now that he's gone you'd do right to marry a true gentle hobbit! My husband and I can help you, of course."

Sitting by the vanity in her quiet room, Posey adjusted the bow to fully cover her beautiful braid in preparation for the party at the Great Smials in Tuckborough. Saturday had come quite quickly and Posey couldn't come up with an excuse to miss the party she'd once been so excited about. She would be traveling there, unfortunately, with Lobelia and Otho (Lobelia's husband) because the distance was too great to attempt alone. Sighing loudly as the knock on the door announced her cousin's arrival, Posey gathered up her lovely blue dress and prepared for an awkward night of questions about Bilbo, dwarves, and adventures.

* * *

Bilbo was certain that his back and legs would never recover. The idea that anyone would voluntarily ride a pony over long distances was absurd! Such an uncomfortable – and smelly! – experience. The first fortnight of the journey had been boring, long, and quite unadventurous. The dwarves were slow to warm to him, which often left Bilbo alone with his thoughts.

It was hard to think too much – that's when the regrets came to mind. How must his poor sister be handling this? The poor thing was beside herself with grief when he'd left! "What's troubling you on this fine morning, Master Baggins?" Bofur was one of the few dwarves that spoke to him with any regularity.

"Just thinking about my sister. I do hope she's doing alright." Posey had never be alone before and, after the initial excitement of leaving home, Bilbo was consumed with guilt for leaving her.

"That's not for you to worry about, so no need to fret over it. The lass'll be just fine!" The dwarf patted Bilbo on the shoulder in what Bilbo supposed was meant to be a comforting gesture and then moved off to join another of the company further ahead in the line.

Before he could, though, Bilbo stopped him. "Why would my own sister not be mine to worry about? She's always been my responsibility and I left her all alone!"

"You hobbits are odd creatures!"Bofur called out, still heading away from Bilbo, "You'd do well to let her husband worry about her!"

"Pardon? My sister isn't married." The laughter that came from several in the company at that remark made Bilbo feel as though he'd missed out on a good joke. "Did I miss something?"

"Aye, that you did, laddie."

* * *

Brianne Proudfoot and her adorable newborn sons had become a great comfort to Posey over the past few months. It'd been difficult to keep the Sackville-Bagginses at bay and Brianne seemed to be the only person that wasn't motivated by gossip or trying to figure out a 'fine husband' for Posey to marry. The little boys, Bungo (named after Posey's own father) and Porter, were a joy to be around, which also proved to be a fine distraction.

As time had worn on, Posey had become increasingly interested in the tale of Erebor and the dwarves of the Loney Mountain. Bilbo had such a fine library that she'd had easy access to several books on the subject – To think that Thorin, the heir to an entire kingdom, had been in her house! The story was such a sad tale, though – Posey thought back to the song that the company had sung all those weeks ago – she truly hoped that the quest succeeded.

Posey had enlisted Brianne's help to scanning the books for more specific information on the location of the Loney Mountain. Thus far, they'd only established that it was far to the East, on the other side of the Misty Mountains. That meant, of course, that Posey would likely have many more months of waiting before she'd know whether or not her brother – and husband – had survived.

Brienne had, of course, asked after the braid that Posey still wore in her hair. The stubborn thing looked, months later, exactly as it had on that first night when Dwalin had 'married' her. Perhaps it was some sort of Dwarven magic? Posey felt that it'd be best for her own sanity to speak to someone about the circumstances of Dwalin's departure, and, much to her surprise, Brianne had been delighted – Pardon me?!

"We he very handsome? And did he have a beard?"

"Well, I wouldn't say that he was handsome by hobbit reckoning, but he was very striking. He did have a beard – a long one – and tattoos." Brianne's gasp and girlish giggle brought a smile to Posey's face.

"Tattoos?! Oh dear, Posey! What else?!"

Certain that she was blushing, Posey continued, "He is very tall – much taller than any hobbit you'll ever meet. They all wear furs and leather, but his clothes were rougher than the rest. He is a warrior too, and had gigantic axes that he wears on his back."

"Axes!" Brianne was giggling again as she bounced little Bungo on her lap. Posey had, of course, sworn Brianne to secrecy. The last thing Posey needed was Lobelia Sackville-Baggins marching up to her door demanding to know all of the details.

* * *

Bilbo's feet, not accustomed to such slippery and treacherous terrain, could not find purchase on the rocky ledge and he pitched forward violently – towards the open air and a fall to certain death. Dwalin, the ugly, horrid, awful, detestable, brutish dwarf stood at his side and pulled him back to edge of the mountain with a firm tug.

It had been several weeks since Bilbo had learned of Posey's sudden marriage to the unpleasant dwarf, and those weeks hadn't been easy on him. Gandalf continued to tell him that this union would be a splendid match for his dearest younger sister, though Bilbo could not see how that could possibly be the case. Dwalin was, by far, the most _dwarvish_ of the company. He was far too large, wore metal – Metal! – on hands, and was covered, head to toe, in strange tattoos! Unacceptable!

It also didn't help that Dwalin had seemed to take it upon himself to protect Bilbo. He'd started walking closer to Bilbo in the group following their first encounter with the mountain trolls before Rivendell. This close proximity gave Bilbo little time to calm down from the anger he'd felt when Gandalf had told him the truth. The rest of the company seemed to think it was perfectly natural for Dwalin to have married his sister on the same evening that they'd met – what a strange culture! Surely Bungo Baggins was turning in his grave at the thought of his only daughter running off with a dwarf! … Though, to be fair, Bilbo had run off with dwarves as well, just in a less matrimonial fashion.

"We must find shelter!" Thorin's shout brought Bilbo back to the present. The narrow mountain pass had been a horrid idea, if Bilbo was honest, and it seemed likely that one or more of them would topple to their deaths if this rain kept up!

"Look out!" Dwalin's loud voice shocked Bilbo into looking to the sky – where a massive boulder was seen hurdling toward the mountain. What in the world?! The sudden shower of jagged rocks that rained down on the company shocked them all. By some miracle, everyone was unharmed after the rocked ceased to fall. "This is no thunder storm! This is a thunder battle!" Balin's voice echoed through the mountains as massive rock formations broke apart to form massive figures, seemingly carved from the rock.

"Bless me! The legends are true! Giants! Stone giants!" Bofur's yells were cut off was another massive boulder screamed past the company toward the approaching figure of yet another giant. Bilbo couldn't speak – this was far too unbelievable and far too frightening. The situation was meant to get worse, however, as the very rock the company stood upon began to move. The shifting and groaning, the narrow ledge split apart, taking half of the company in one direction, the other half in another. Bilbo could feel Dwalin's arm bracing him against the rock as the wind wiped by them in a violent dance.

"Hold on!" Thinking back to his warm hearth, kind sister, and the gentle streams of the Shire, Bilbo knew that he'd be a fool. He never should have come on this journey.

* * *

What had possessed Posey to go to this gathering was beyond her. The Brandybuck's were a lively bunch, but their parties generally got out of hand. After dancing with a number of fine gentle hobbits, Posey had decided to rest next to Brianne, who'd finally managed an evening away from her young sons. It had been more than six months since Bilbo, Dwalin, and the rest of Thorin's company had left Bag End – six months of odd dreams, lonely evenings, and bows to cover the now slightly shabby looking braid. Posey had tried to fix the silly braid on more than one occasion, but she couldn't figure out how to open the metal bead – for now, it appeared that she'd need to cut it off if she wanted to fix the braid… and Posey just couldn't bring herself to do it.

"Oi! Posey! Come give me another dance!" Adal Brandybuck, a handsome young hobbit who'd already danced with Posey three times approached with a warm smile and a small tankard of ale. "You're by far the best dancer here, my lady, and I'm afraid I cannot allow any other to enjoy you but me!"

Brianne shifted a bit uncomfortably to Posey's right. Every other hobbit at the gathering seemed determined to put both Adal and Posey together as often as possible - poor Brianne seemed to be the only one on Posey's side. Though, she was also the only one to know that Posey was already married, so perhaps that made a bit of sense.

"Oh, I'm much too exhausted, Adal! Thank you for the invitation, though." Seeing the young man's face fall, Posey tried to come up with something to help him recover from the slight, "I'm actually thinking of heading back to Bag End! I'll need an escort – would you mind?"

What a horrid idea! What are you thinking?!

Adal, of course, jumped at the chance of escorting Posey back to Hobbiton. The ride on Adal's pony-led cart would take close to an hour… and hour in which they'd only have each other for company. Brianne was at the gathering with her husband, otherwise Posey would have forced her to come along as well.

"I must say," Adal began several moments later, after the sounds of the merry gathering had disappeared behind them, "I was very glad to see you this evening. Father thought you might not come."

"I always enjoy coming to Buckleberry, Adal. I am glad to have been invited." This was by far one of the most awkward buggy rides of Posey's life.

"I would hope that you'd find a reason to come more often. I'm not able to travel into Hobbiton more than once or twice a month because my work." Adal was nervous, that was quite obvious.

"I don't like travel and the walk is quite far," Posey began, "and besides, Bag End requires a great deal of work to maintain."

Adal nodded and smiled his best smile at her, "It must be hard to be in that big house all by yourself. Have you thought of… expanding the family?"

"Expanding?" Posey's voice was a mere squeak as she turned to face the road. "No. No, I haven't."

"Your brother has been gone for a long time, Posey. You need someone to look after you." Adal was slowing down the cart. Oh dear. "I'd surely love to be the one to do it."

"To do what?" Panic was setting in. This wasn't going to be good.

"To look after you. I'd do my very best and I would make you happy, I swear it!" He was touching her hand now. "You're so lovely and kind and sweet – I've fancied you for years."

"Years?"

"Yes. You're so beautiful, Posey!"

It happened quite by surprise, then. He'd grabbed her face and kissed her. _Kissed her_. Her first kiss in more than six months. It felt disgusting. "Stop!" Posey pulled away and jumped off of the cart as fast as she could. "You assume too much, Adal Brandybuck! You should be ashamed of yourself!" Leaving the shocked hobbit behind, Posey marched ahead toward Hobbiton and the safety of Bag End – Adal didn't follow.

That night, all Posey could think about was how much she wished it'd been Dwalin she'd been kissed by… and that thought made her feel all the more confused. She'd only met Dwalin once – yes, she'd married him during that one meeting – but it seemed odd that he'd managed to stay in thoughts as much as he had.

Posey wished their quest would hurry up.


	6. Chapter 6

_Disclaimer: I don't own anything - Tolkien gets all the credit._

_A/N: So… I've been a bad writer and haven't updated in FORVER – so sorry about that! Sometimes life happens… and seriously, a lot of "life" has been happening! I'm glad that you've all liked the series of vignettes covering journey to Erebor! The reviews have been amazing – please keep posting them! You guys are fantastic! :)_

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Chapter Six

Darkness. Bilbo's lasting memory of Mirkwood would be darkness… well, that and spiders. The company's first days in the forest had been miserable – the sun never penetrated the thick canopy of trees, making day and night much the same. The dwarves were accustomed to low light, but even they were having trouble sticking to the path that wove through the vast woods like a snake. Gandalf had left them, and with him went a great deal of Bilbo's confidence in this quest's success.

In fact, if Bilbo was completely honest with himself, this entire adventure had been one disaster after another! …and just when things had been looking up, the forest of Mirkwood had turned on them.

First, there was the lack of food. They could only carry so much without ponies when they first entered the wood, so meals were growing smaller and smaller by the day. Second, the blasted forest had a dark and foul smelling river with magic water that lulled you sleep. Poor Bombor had fallen victim to it – he hadn't woken in almost two days… one benefit to this was spare food – another was that Dwalin, the horrid creature, was usually forced to carry Bombor due to this superior strength. Though relations with his "brother in law" had improved slightly, Bilbo still found it difficult to stomach the idea of his sweet sister being married to that brute.

Thinking back on all of the hardships that had plagued the company in recent days, none of them could come close to the spiders – gigantic, hideous spiders! – that had snuck upon the group as they chased after elves, wishing to beg for mercy and food. This journey, really, couldn't get any worse.

At present, the company – including a now roused Bombor – was wrapped up tight in sticky, white webs. Bilbo's lovely magic ring – a token from his time in the Misty Mountains – had saved him from the same fate. The plan, as Bilbo saw it, was to climb a large tree, cut his companions out of their sticky traps, and rush everyone away to safety… The process of executing that plan, however… Well, Bilbo supposed it was time to improvise.

* * *

Since the 'incident' with Adal Brandybuck, Posey hadn't left Bag End unless completely necessary. Adal hadn't been silent about her refusal of him and many hobbits had voiced their disbelief to her – "But he's such a fine lad!" "He's handsome and rich! What more do you need?" "Is it true you slapped him?" "Your father would be so disappointed!"

Rolling her eyes at the memory of her most recent visit from Lobelia Sackville-Baggins, Posey continued to work in the vegetable garden. She never quite had the skill that Bilbo did, but the garden was still passable… Though, her brother would likely fret himself to death if he saw it now – Posey had always fared better with flowers.

It was officially eight months to the day since her dear brother had run out of Bag End in pursuit of Thorin Oakenshield. Eight months as well since Posey had last seen Dwalin - Many times she'd played over the events of their final morning together. They'd only been in the same room for a few moments that day, but the lasting warmth she felt – Goodness! Surely he'd felt that warmth too? Posey didn't know him well enough to be sure, but if her judge of character was right, Dwalin hid a great deal of emotion beneath that rough exterior… at least, she hoped he did. It'd be a real shame to be pinning after him all these months, only to discover indifference on his end.

She wondered where they were now – Probably climbing a mountain. Or perhaps traveling by boat? Maybe they were already on their way back to her – her dearest brother surely wouldn't delay in returning… right?

* * *

The damp prison cell was cramped and smelt of mildew – Apparently the elves weren't as hospitable as they claimed to be. Dwalin had been shoved into the tiny cell, along with his brother, almost two days before. Initially, he'd violently struck at the bars, attempting with all his might to escape. But several hours and many bloodied knuckles later, the cell bars had yet to move. Now, their hours passed by in silence – forcing Dwalin to think, a pastime that he never must indulged in, which brought to mind thoughts of soft blonde hair, a tiny waist, and bright blue eyes. Posey Baggins had enchanted him.

The tiny hobbit lass was feisty, thank goodness. The mix of sass, sweetness, and the sight of her with those curls around her face – no sweeter vision would ever be found, that he was sure of. She'd looked lovely with his braid too.

The feelings had been present during the entire quest – had led him to protect her brother, led him to be more cautious. He'd be damned if he didn't do everything he could to get back to her. It worried him that she was all alone – the Shire seemed a safe place, but you never could be too careful. She deserved the safety of a dwarven fortress.

Once Erebor was reclaimed, she would gifted with jewels and fine gowns – she'd look lovely with his mother's amethyst necklace. In fact, if Dwalin were put to considering it, the lass would probably look lovely in just about anything. Her big, bright eyes were like the finest of sapphires and just the thought of seeing her look at him again with lips bruised from his kisses… Oh, Mahal, he needed to think about something else.

Shaking his head with a grunt, Dwalin's thoughts turned to his woman's troublesome brother. He'd been absent since their last battle with the spiders and Dwalin was certain that the fool had taken advantage of his funny ring and was sneaking about somewhere – hopefully. The last thing Dwalin needed was to survive this quest, only to return to Posey and tell her that her brother's fate was sealed in a dark forest surrounded by giant spiders.

* * *

"I'd say they're somewhere on the other side of the Misty Mountains now. Maybe on the West side of that big forest?" Brianne and Posey were, once again, pouring over old maps and books in an attempt to guess when the company of Thorin Oakenshield would reach their destination.

"I was surely hoping they'd be at the mountain by now." Posey was finding it increasingly hard to stay optimistic. It'd be a full year soon – a full year since she'd given Bombor an extra pack of cheese to take as a snack. A full year since that frightful burping contest in her dining room. A full year since she'd seen her brother… and Dwalin.

Surely all of this waiting would drive her mad!

"They'll come back, Posey." Oh dear – Brianne was using her 'soft' voice again – that voice always made Posey get emotional. Then again, everything was making her emotional recently. Lobelia and Otho Sackville-Baggins had been increasingly awful to her recently – trying to convince her to leave Bag End. They told her she was wasting the land and the house by being here all alone, waiting for a brother that was surely never going to return.

The rest of the Shire seemed in agreement what that. Hobbits now spoke of Bilbo as if he were dead – all in the past tense and always with a sad look on their faces. More than one hobbit had suggested that she might do well to go to Tuckborough to live with her mother's family, under the protection of the Old Took. Lobelia was, of course, more than willing to take Bag End should Posey choose to leave it.

Absolutely not!

"It's hopeless, Brianne! They've been gone a year!" Posey's head dropped and the tears were building in her eyes. What if everyone was right? What if Bilbo was dead? One of his books had mentioned goblins – Disgusting! – living in giant caves in the mountains. What if the company had run into some of them?

This though brought Posey back to Dwalin and his vast array of weaponry. The massive dwarf seemed ready for anything when he'd left her behind at Bag End. He would have protected Bilbo! Dwalin was a strong and good dwarf – she just knew it. He'd be back with Bilbo and they'd all laugh about this soon… hopefully. Wiping the unshed tears, Posey gathered herself and touched the small drawing of a lone mountain, far to the east of Hobbiton. "No, they'll come back. I just have to keep up hope."

* * *

The rush of water and the violent slamming of wood against rock made Dwalin certain that the hobbit's idea for escape from the pointy-eared demons was purely intended to kill him. The plan, seemingly ingenious at first, would more than likely drown the company before they reached the town of men.

Feeling as though he may be upright, Dwalin crashed his fist against the top of the barrel. The spray of the water and the pale light of early morning mixed with the yells he could hear from his companions. Upon lifting his head out of the barrel, Dwalin could see that many of the group were also beginning to appear out of their wooden casks. Thorin was just next to him, head pointed up into the trees, "Careful lads! We've got company!"

Arching his back, Dwalin could see dozens of elves, armed with bows, crawling through the trees along the shore of the river. The current was strong, forcing the elves to concentrate a great deal more on keeping up with them rather than shooting arrows – thankfully. Dwalin nearly toppled out of the barrel at a particularly rough section of river… Yes, Bilbo must have been trying to kill him.

A battle cry could heard – Thorin – but Dwalin was too busy trying to stay afloat. Ahead of him, Dwalin could see Bofur and Dori struggling as well, but no elves. The spray of the river had completely drenched Dwalin in ice cold water, causing a brief shiver to run through him. Surely if he was this cold, the idiot hobbit would not be faring well. Quick movement to his left alerted Dwalin to a lone elf running across a long branch that extended out over the river – the elf was armed and aiming directly at him. Using the momentum of the water, Dwalin swung his barrel around to slam into the branch, almost knocking the elf into the violent white-water. The elf's bow fell harmlessly into the river as the point-eared demon clung to the branch with both arms.

If he made it through this mess, Dwalin was going to need to have a conversation with his "brother."

* * *

"The winter festival would be a great chance for you to meet a husband, my dear." Lobelia Sackville-Baggins said with an entirely false smile. "Perhaps it would be good for you to be out around other hobbits your age. You're quickly on the path to becoming a spinster at this rate!"

If Posey rolled her eyes one more time, she was certain that her eyes might stay that way. The winter festival, a Hobbiton tradition, was only a short week away and everyone that she knew – including her dearest friend, Brianne – was trying to convince her to attend. Posey, however, didn't feel up to socializing. The weather had turned. Snow coated the little fields of the Shire and a crisp chill hung in the air. With gardening officially out of season, Posey had little motivation to be outside.

"I'm afraid that I simply do not like the cold, Lobelia. I do hope that you enjoy yourself, but I don't think that I'll be going this year."

"Perhaps Adal Brandybuck would be forgiving – that mess was thoroughly regrettable. I can't believe you botched that up!" Posey's eyes darted to Lobelia's, seeing the sneer on the older hobbit's face, "He would have been a fine husband, Posey. The best someone like you would have been able to find."

Pardon me?!

"What exactly do you mean by 'someone like me'?" Posey stood quickly, walking toward the bright green door that Lobelia had forced her way through several hours before. "Wait, never mind. I actually don't care to hear what you mean by that. I'm feeling rather tired and think that it's time for you to leave."

"Are you kicking me out?" Lobelia's shrill voice was like having daggers shoved in Posey's ears.

"I'm asking you to leave."

"Well, I never!" Lobelia's sputtering was following by the crash of her teacup falling to the floor. "I cannot believe the depths of rudeness that flow through you, Posey Belladonna Baggins! You're worse than you dead parents and your equally dead brother!" The older hobbit stomped out of the front door in a rattle of limp skirts and mousy-brown curls.

Posey slammed the door shut and leaned back against the cool wood. A giggle erupted from her throat just as tears began to fall from her eyes. How had her life come to this? The days were shorter in the winter, which left her lying awake in bed even longer each night. Sleep was always hard to find, and when she did find rest, the alternating dreams of her dearest brother and mysterious husband haunted her. After so long, more than a year, Posey had little hope that she would ever see either of them again.

Teary-eyed and depressed, Posey made her way into the sitting room to clean up the spilt tea that Lobelia had so graciously left behind. The teacup had shattered and little bits of glass were all over the floor. The tea would stain the lovely floral rug, Posey was sure of it. Taking care not to cut her fingers, Posey began the slow process of locating all of the glass.

Just as she reached for the final splintered piece of teacup, a rattling noise came from the small window in the corner of the room. Glancing up, Posey saw a large raven sitting outside on the windowsill. It was a hideously ugly thing – the winter certainly hadn't been kind to its feathers. Posey tapped lightly on the glass of the window in an attempt to shoo the bird away, "Go on, now." She whispered. The raven shook its head.

Wait… what?

"Shoo!" Posey hit the glass a little harder. The bird just stared her and lifted its leg to rattle against the glass again. It was then that Posey noticed a small metal object attached to the raven's leg – it wasn't large, but the dwarven engravings on it were clear enough to her eyes. Making a noise she wasn't sure made any sense at all, Posey nearly attacked the window before realizing that the tiny glass frame didn't open – it was just for light. Growling in frustration, Posey ran to the front door and raced through the snow toward the raven. It hadn't moved, and patiently lifted its leg out toward her.

"Please be the bearer of good news, you dear bird!" Posey muttered excitedly as she removed the tiny dwarven… thing? … from the bird's leg. Posey ran back toward the door and distractedly felt the bird follow her back inside. The large raven landed on her mother's glory box and followed her with its eyes as she struggled to twist open the metal capsule, "Goodness, please tell me that I can get this silly thing open!"

As if summoned by her words, the metal object parted open and tiny piece of parchment fluttered out. Catching it before it fell completely to the ground, Posey delicately opened the curled paper and gasped with tears in her eyes as she read the short note:

_**I am coming for you. Be ready to travel.**_

_**Dwalin**_

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_A/N: The reunion is coming! What'd you think? Please review! :)_


	7. Chapter 7

_Disclaimer: I don't own anything - Tolkien gets all the credit._

_A/N: I've been so excited to see the great response that the last chapter received :) Thank you to everyone that's reviewing – your feedback really motivated me to get this next chapter out quickly!_

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Chapter Seven

The great battle had been vicious and, if he was honest with himself, Dwalin had loved every moment of it. Defending his sacred homeland from the goblins who would take it from them, defended alongside his kin from the Iron Hills, an army of elves, and even the men of Laketown… the battle had been glorious. Even the giant eagles had come.

His comrades had been lost amongst the fury, though Dwalin had kept an eye out for them as his carved his way through the weak and mindless goblin horde. Thinking, the entire time, that this would be a good day to die, Dwalin had lost himself in it – never allowing his mind to go back to that sweet face and those blonde curls that had been on his mind so much of late. He wouldn't taint her memory by thinking of her as he killed dozens upon of dozens of evil creatures.

Victory was won.

It wasn't until the fighting was ended that Dwalin realized the true price of their triumph. His friend. His King. The one dwarf whom Dwalin had always followed and had sworn to protect… Thorin Oakenshield, King Under the Mountain, was dead. Worse yet, the direct line of Durin was broken. Fili and Kili fell to protect their Uncle. Dwalin would easily trade his life for any of theirs in an instant. The grief was insurmountable.

They had been slightly blue – eyes closed, bodies broken, and blue. The vision would haunt him always.

Wandering the battlefield, seeking out the living, recovering the dead, Dwalin sought to find his brothers. He would know – he was certain – if Balin was dead. The brothers had an unshakable bond and their spirits were tied to one another. Dwalin knew, deep down, that Balin was looking for him as well, though the vastness of the battlefield kept them separated for a time… It was his other brother – his young brother, his new brother, his wife's brother – that he worried for.

Oin has certain that Bilbo had been with Thorin as the King drew his last breath, but no one had seen the Hobbit since. Small skirmishes were still breaking out, nothing large, but still dangerous for a Hobbit unaware of the danger. Dwalin's voice was raw from calling out Bilbo's name – Bofur was sent to look for him as well.

Hours past – no sign of their brave Hobbit friend.

* * *

"When do you think he'll get here?! Did the raven come from Bree? Or Erebor?" Brianne was jumping up and down, her young sons giggling as they bounced lightly from their perch on either side of their mother's waist.

"I don't know! The frustrating dwarf gave me absolutely no information!" Posey was wringing her hands as she peeked out toward the front garden, still covered in snow. "He could be here any moment! Or he could be here in three months!"

"Well, I think it best to pack now, ask questions later! I can always help Bilbo with any mess that you leave behind." Posey's eyes slammed to Brianne as her friend started surveying the sitting room, mumbling to herself about the things that Posey wouldn't need to pack.

"Oh dear."

Brianne knew something was wrong. Posey didn't talk in that tone unless something was wrong. "What, Posey? Is everything alright?" Brianne put the boys down walked to her friend, seeing the color draining from Posey's face.

"Bilbo. Dwalin didn't say anything about Bilbo."

Posey couldn't believe her selfishness. She had been so excited to get the letter (if you could call a nine word note a letter) from Dwalin that she hadn't even noticed that there was no mention of her brother. All sorts of horrid imaginings came into Posey's head – he had been killed by goblins. Eaten by trolls. Fallen into a ravine. Slipped and landed on Dwalin's axes.

"Now, now, just because the note didn't say anything about Bilbo doesn't mean he isn't coming. The parchment was smaller than a quill! Dwalin just didn't have the space to write anything more."

That was a good point, Posey conceded silently as she continued to panic. The raven, who still resided in her home, pecking away at leftovers and sleeping on her mother's glory box, couldn't possibly have flown with a full-sized letter hanging from its leg. Dwalin just couldn't spare for extra details in worry that the old raven wouldn't make the journey with the added weight. Perfect. That made sense.

"Of course… of course." Posey's voice didn't express a lot of confidence.

"Come now, Posey, today should be a _**good**_ day. You've waited for more than a year to get any news! We should be celebrating!" Brianne pulled Posey away from the window and walked her into the kitchen where the boys were crawling around underneath the small table in front of the fire. "Let's make some tea and figure out what travel clothes you have. That'll be a good start, I think."

* * *

"Brother, you don't have to do this. Erebor is our home – You should stay." Balin's voice was gentle and Dwalin knew that his brother was worried for him. It had been a week since the battle was done. Thorin, Fili, and Kili now rested deep in the mountain.

"Thorin's Halls need guidance. There's no one there to lead the dwarves that stay behind. I've never lived in Erebor, Balin. I'm not connected to it as you are. I should be the one to go." Dwalin's voice wasn't gentle. He was tired of being treated like a child. Yes, Thorin's death had devastated him – but it was no different for any of the company. "I will return to Ered Luin." Dwalin was born decades after the mountain had been taken by Smaug, and while the beauty of the mountain spoke to him, he knew his place was elsewhere now that Thorin was dead.

"This doesn't have anything to do with a certain Hobbit lassie that's conveniently located on the way to the Blue Mountains, does it?"

Dwalin chuckled and hit Balin on the shoulder lightly with his large fist. "Not really, though I would return to the Shire for her anyway, even if I was to stay here." She was the one thing Dwalin had to look forward to. Returning to Ered Luin came with its own share of dangers – Stewardship over Thorin's Halls was likely to be contested by several clans… bringing Posey into that mess might not be the best idea, but Dwalin wouldn't continue to be parted from her. "She will be happy to stay closer to the Shire, I think."

"Aye, brother, that's to be sure." Balin heaved a great sigh and patted Dwalin on the back. "I am to stay here for a time – help with the reconstruction and make sure that Dain settles in without any problems."

Dwalin's eyes darkened a bit at the mention of the leader of the Iron Hills, Dain Ironfoot. The new King Under the Mountain. He had refused to help with the quest, but now reaps the rewards of it. "Don't say it, brother." Balin said quietly, "It's over now. No changing it."

"Aye, no changing it." Dwalin turned and began to walk away from his brother, heading toward to the meal hall to eat supper, "I'm off to claim my wife in the morning, brother! Come and drink some ale with me!"

* * *

"I don't know, that seems like a bit much, don't you think?" Posey and Brianne stood in Posey's bedroom, looking at the massive pile of skirts, coats, blouses, dresses, and travel clothes now on the bed. "We would need a cart and pony to take all of this!"

"But you'll have no clothes if you don't take it! And that's just your nice things!" Brianne stood next one of the wardrobes in the corner of room and pointed to the large amount of clothing still inside, "We haven't even looked through these yet!"

Posey sighed and covered her face in her hands, "I know! I know, Brianne! How am I supposed to pack for a journey when I have an entire house filled with things I don't wish to be parted from?!"

Brianne put her hands to her hips and looked back to the bed. "Okay, let's think about this. If you had only three days left to live, which clothes would you want to wear?"

Posey giggled, "I don't know if I like this game!"

"I'm serious! Let's really figure out what you can't be parted from and then leave the rest." Posey watched as her friend walked to the bed and lifted a periwinkle blue dress from the top of the pile. It was Posey's favorite party dress. "What about this?"

"I absolutely must take that!"

"And this?" Brianne now held a brown coat that one of Posey's cousins had given her several years before.

"I could leave that behind, I suppose… though it does go well with my hair."

"It's not going with you… what about this?" Posey sighed again – this was going to take a while.

Several hours later, Posey had a manageable amount of clothing that she would take with her. A travel dress, complete with legging and a thick coat would be what she wore during the journey back to Erebor. The periwinkle blue dress would be for any fancy occasions – though Posey wasn't convinced that dwarves actually had 'fancy' occasions – and three more dresses of varying colors, two more coats, and an old pair of Bilbo's pants (just in case), would have to last until she was able to gather more clothes after they reached their destination.

"Well, I'm off to get dinner ready for the boys." Brianne said as she headed to the door, "I'll come by tomorrow after second breakfast!" Posey waved her goodbye as she sat before the fire in the sitting room. It had been a week since the letter from Dwalin had arrived… a week where every moment, Posey had to convince herself that Bilbo was returning with Dwalin. That Dwalin would be here soon. That all this waiting would be worth it.

"Oh goodness." Before she even realized it, Posey had fallen asleep in the armchair, completely exhausted.

* * *

The journey was fraught with delays. The large group of dwarves traveled slowly, taking care to avoid the mountain passes still plagued with goblins and not using any major roads which would give away their position. Dwalin would have preferred to travel alone, but Dain insisted that warriors return to Ered Luin as well to escort the dwarves that wished to return to Erebor.

Winter was fully upon them, though most of the hearty dwarves wouldn't complain of the cold. It was agreed that once the company reached the outskirts of Bree, Dwalin would separate from the group to retrieve his wife, then return to make the final approach to Thorin's Halls. Several weeks before, Dwalin had dispatched a raven to Hobbiton to warn her of his arrival – he could only hope that the bird made it to her. They couldn't afford any additional delays and his wife was sure to be unused to travelling, even at such a slow pace.

Crossing the Misty Mountains went with little notable issues. A few goblins had been lurking in the caves on the eastern side, remnants of the battle of Five Armies, and they were defeated easily. Once back on the plains to the west, the dwarves stopped frequently to scout behind them, insuring that nothing – goblin or orc – was following them. This made Dwalin all the more anxious. The heaviest of the winter snows would be upon them soon – they needed to hurry.

More than a fortnight after they set out, Dwalin left the main company early. He couldn't stand the slow pace any longer and rode his pony ahead to reach the Shire with time to prepare his wife for the journey. He wasn't sure what to expect from the little minx, but if their first encounter was anything to go by… Well, he was looking forward to it.

The land began to smooth out, the hills softer, the fields neater – the air even seemed cleaner. The Shire was close now. Dwalin knew he had driven his pony a bit too hard, but this journey to return to Posey had taken much longer than anticipated and he wasn't going to draw it out any longer than necessary now that he was so close.

Just as the winter sun rose over the rolling hills of Hobbiton, Dwalin spotted a large tree covered in snow. Just underneath it, behind a now sparse garden, a green door. Smoke rose out of the chimney and light could be seen in the windows.

He'd finally made it.


	8. Chapter 8

_Disclaimer: I don't own anything - Tolkien gets all the credit._

_A/N: I'm SO incredibly grateful for the response to the last chapter – you guys are absolutely fabulous – let's break another record for this story with some fabulous reviews, huh?! Love you guys!_

* * *

Chapter Eight

Posey shivered as she pulled her robe tighter and refastened the sash at her waist. The morning chill had motivated her to get the fires started from the moment she got out of bed – this winter had been one of the coldest she could remember. Sitting in the kitchen with a steaming cup of peppermint tea, Posey wiggled her toes before the flames, doing everything she could think to warm her frozen feet. Sometimes she really wondered if she was, in fact, completely a Hobbit – her feet were always freezing and no other Hobbit she'd ever met had ever had 'insulation issues' – Posey giggled, "Goodness, insulation issues."

The doorbell rang then, distracting her from her internal conversation about cold feet. "It's not even breakfast! Goodness, Brianne!" Posey stood, regretfully glancing to the fire as she walked toward the door. "I'm coming!" She couldn't imagine why her friend would ring at this hour – hopefully everything was okay with the boys.

Posey's entire body shivered as she grasped the chilled handle on the door – she was NOT looking forward to the cold blast of air that was surely about to hit her face. "Brianne, is everything al-"

Oh. Dear.

Posey screamed. She didn't realize what she was doing until she was standing behind a closed door, breathing heavily. Dwalin was outside. Her husband… He was outside. Wait – had she just slammed the door in his face? Oh dear. Whipping the door open again as fast as possible, Posey looked up at the imposing dwarf who, it seemed, wasn't extremely happy about having the door slammed in his face.

"Dwalin?"

"We're ye expecting someone else, lass?" His voice, the low rumble that she's heard in her dreams for the past year and a half, made her shiver even more than the cold.

"No."

He raised an eyebrow – the one with the scar running through it – and looked at her as if he was waiting for her to do something. "Oh, sorry! Come inside! I'm sure it's freezing out there!"

He walked into the main entry with a swagger that only he could pull off – had she forgotten how proud he was? His size – goodness. Time had certainly dulled her memory! Had he been this big when he'd been in Bag End last? He had a thick traveling cloak on, lined with fine fur, and the sound of rustling metal could be heard with every step he took. His clothing seemed… finer? More regal?

Closing the door to keep out the cold, Posey watched as Dwalin turned to look at her again. This wasn't exactly what she'd had in mind for their reunion – perhaps a dramatic embrace? Or words of undying devotion? All of the sudden, Posey was extremely unsure of herself.

"Would like some tea?" Posey grimaced – of course that's the first thing she'd say. She was a Hobbit after all…

"No."

"Maybe some bacon?"

"No."

"I could make porridge."

"No."

He was taking his cloak off – he was covered in knives and axes and other weapons that surely had names, though Posey didn't know them.

"Well, it's rather early for it, but I have ale in the pantry."

"I'm not hungry or thirsty, lass."

Posey knew that her blush was coming on full force - What did she say now? She stood, wearing a robe and her nightclothes, looking on as Dwalin slowly removed the weapons from his waist, thighs, and back. Even without them, her husband was still an impressive sight. Posey was beginning to think that he was, in fact, larger than before. His waist was trimmer than she recalled, but his arms and shoulders had gone beyond 'large' – she could even see the veins of his forearms – not an ounce of fat was on him, surely.

* * *

Placing the last of his weaponry on the floor, Dwalin looked back to his wife, taking in the sight of blonde curls, blue eyes, and softness that he'd spent the past months thinking about. If anything, she was fairer than before. His braid, while a bit loose, still stood out proudly among the curls that surrounded her face. She was blushing – he seemed to always have that effect on her.

Dwalin thought back to all of the times he'd imagined their reunion – He hadn't thought to find her in her bedclothes, and he certainly hadn't thought that she'd close the front door upon seeing him. Smirking as she twisted her hands together in obvious discomfort, Dwalin took a step toward her. "This wasn't exactly the welcome I was hoping for, lass." She gasped – his little wife, Mahal help him, blushed even deeper.

"What exactly were you hoping for?" Her voice was weak, that same high-pitched squeak that he remembered from when he'd had her alone the one other time they'd been together. He'd replayed every word of their limited conversations over the past year – to actually hear and see her again, and have her on the opposite side of the room, was making him impatient.

What was he hoping for?

"Come over here, _taerin_, and I'll show ye." Her entire body jolted, her face flaming all the more in a violent blush across her cheeks - She was really quite too innocent for him. "I'll not ask again, lass."

Her approach was slow – as if she were walking toward a warg or mountain troll. Perhaps it was wise of her to be hesitant, but that wouldn't save her much. As soon as his wife was within arm's reach, Dwalin grabbed her by the arms, lifting her so that her face was level with his own. Her feet dangled by his knees, her scent – sunflowers – overwhelmed him. "Ye'll kiss me now, _taerin_."

* * *

Oh.

_**Dear**_.

Oh, Dear.

Posey's hands grasped Dwalin's forearms as he held her to his chest. She could feel his breath on her face and his chest heaving against her own. "Ye'll kiss me now, _taerin_."

He didn't really give her a choice, she supposed, as his mouth attacked hers in a rather violent embrace. Posey was overcome by the feel of his beard against her throat, his lips moving against her own, his hands clasped around her arms, the sounds he made when she began to kiss him back.

They kissed until Posey could no longer breathe – It felt like forever.

Pulling back, Dwalin set her on her feet and moved his hands to her hair. "This will never do, little one." Posey, still reeling from their kiss, wasn't sure what Dwalin even meant by that until the metal clasp was pulled from her braid and Dwalin slowly rewound her hair into a neat plait. His face, still close to own, was a mask of concentration as his fingers gently rearranged her hair and refastened the metal clasp.

"Thank you." Posey muttered quietly as Dwalin pulled away and began to glance about the hallway. He moved quickly when his eyes landed on the pack she'd made in preparation for their journey, picking up the leather bag and sifting through the contents. Posey got nervous as Dwalin grunted at the sight of her periwinkle blue dress – Perhaps dwarves _really_ don't have fancy occasions? He flipped the pack over, looking at the outside, then opened it back up and sifted again through her clothes.

"Lass, are ye planning on just bringing clothes? What about food? Herbs? Supplies for the journey?"

Fidgeting slightly, Posey tried not to sound too nervous, "I've never traveled anywhere beyond the Shire, Dwalin. I wasn't sure what I should I bring and I thought that you'd have the rest." Dwalin grunted again, dropped her bag to the ground and walked through the sitting room toward the kitchen, not saying a word.

Posey felt like crying. This hadn't gone at all like she'd hoped.

* * *

Dwalin stood in the pantry, gathering food that would last during the journey to Ered Luin. His little wife hadn't the slightest idea of what to prepare, which was a little disappointing, but he supposed it was to be expected. After pulling several cheeses and different breads from the shelves, Dwalin walked into the kitchen and dumped them onto the table by the fire. He glanced around, expecting to see his wife – she hadn't followed him as he anticipated, "Lass! We need to wrap the food in cloth and ye'll need to leave some of those dresses behind to save room!"

Turning back into the pantry, Dwalin spent a few moments looking for dried meats before giving up, thinking it would quicker to have Posey find what they needed, "Lass, can ye come here? We need to be off soon."

Standing still for a moment, Dwalin didn't hear her approach. He looked into the kitchen and out into the hallway – she wasn't there. "Lass?" Nothing. Heading toward the entry way where he'd last seen her, Dwalin heard a sniffle – a hiccup. He stopped to listen. He heard muffled noises – small squeaks, sniffles, more hiccups. Walking forward again, Dwalin wasn't prepared for what he saw.

She was weeping.

Standing in the exact spot she'd been when he left the room, wearing a pale yellow robe with her demure nightgown peeking out at the bottom, her face in hands, shoulders shaking, Posey was weeping. Dwalin was a warrior – he'd fought battles against many foes, been outnumbered and overpowered on countless occasions – but the sight of his little wife crying was by far the most frightening thing he'd ever seen. "Lass?"

"My name is Posey! Not _Lass_!"

Dwalin stepped back in shock as his wife's screech hit him like a punch. He'd seen her tear-stained face for just a moment before she covered it again and collapsed onto the floor, her head in her hands, elbows on her knees. Her shoulders were shaking violently, Posey's weeping now turning into violent sobs.

"I know ye'r name, lass." Dwalin didn't know what else to say. Dwarven women didn't cry.

"Just go away!"

"_Taerin, _be reasonable. We haven't much time."

"I don't even know what that means!"

"It means we haven't any time for this!" He barked back.

Dwalin was getting impatient. They weren't more than a day or two ahead of the rest of the group, and Bag End was more than half a day off course, so speed was of the essence. If they took too long to leave, they'd have to make the rest of the journey to Ered Luin alone – which wasn't an option. Posey needed to be protected.

"That's not what I mean!" She was really quite cute when she was upset, Dwalin thought, as her red face peeked out from behind her hands.

"What do ye mean, then?"

"I don't know what _tae-reen_ means! Don't call me things if I don't know what they mean! It's rude!"

At least the yelling seemed to calm her crying. Dwalin could handle angry. He couldn't handle crying.

"Is that what ye're upset about? That I called you my _taerin_?"

"No! That's not why I'm upset! I'm upset because you march into my home after more than a year, kiss me, and then march off spouting orders like you're not even happy to see me! I've been waiting for so _long_! And where is my _brother_?!"

* * *

Posey was breathing heavily as she starred up at her husband from her spot on the floor. Her tears had subsided, but she was certain that she must look frightful. Dwalin had an odd look on this face – a cross between frustration and humor. He thought this was _funny_?

"And I don't think that this is _at all_ funny!" The more she yelled, the better she felt. Perfect.

Dwalin crossed his arms over her chest and the humor left his face. "Are ye done yelling, _taerin_?"

"Stop calling me that!"

"No, I will not."

How dare he! After more than a year!

"_Why not_?!" Posey was not going to stop yelling – she was starting to feel fantastic. Stories of her mother's temper came back to her suddenly – Belladonna Baggins would surely be proud of her daughter's spunk.

"Because I waited 170 years to call someone that, and now that I can, I don't plan on stopping!" Posey shrunk back from the sound of Dwalin's yell. He was far more intimidating when he was angry, and the fact that he was towering over her far more than normal wasn't helping.

"Then tell me what it means!"

"It means that ye're my _love_! Now get up off of the floor and contain that mouth of ye'rs! I've had enough of this!"

Oh.

_**Oh**_.

"What?" Posey's voice was just a whisper now, all steam and fire leaving it as the impact of her husband's words hit her. "Your love?"

"Yes, lass." His voice was calmer too, and that weird frustration / humor look was back on his face.

"Why didn't you just say that from the start?"

Dwalin sighed, "Because, lass, I don't know many that can't speak _Khuzdul_. I'll be sure to keep that in mind when I speak to ye." He walked to her then and helped her up off of the floor. "If ye're quite done with the hysterics, I'll tell ye of ye're brother while we prepare for the journey."

"Bilbo's alright, isn't he?"

"Aye, he is with Gandalf at Erebor. They'll make the journey to the Shire after the snow melts. The mountain passes are dangerous this time of year."

Posey was confused. "Then why are we going now? Won't the passes still be dangerous when we reach them?"

"We're not going to Erebor, _taerin_. I plan to lead the dwarves of Thorin's Halls in the Blue Mountains."

Confusion continued to grow - "I thought that you would want to stay with Thorin in Erebor."

The immediate change in Dwalin's demeanor was almost frightening. "Lass, let's go to the pantry and work as we speak. The tale of Thorin Oakenshield is a long one - One that just ended."

* * *

_A/N: Please let me know what you think! This chapter was a beast to write! :)_

Translations:

"_taerin" _= Dwarvish word for _true love, 'deep' love_

"_Khuzdul"_ = the Dwarvish language


End file.
